My father died
from a gun shot wound
to the head

self-inflicted

Don't get all weird about it.

Fathers die
and their passing
though certain
is rarely easy.

So what can I say of this man
so many years
after his emphatic end?

I can say what Whitman said
of Lincoln:
"O Captain, my Captain.
Rise up and hear the bells."

But he will not.

He was ever-present
wise and alert
a boxer in life
a fighter in every way.

And I grew up with the gloves on
quick
elusive
and thanks to him
successful in every ring.  

He died
******* on a lit tobacco stick

Emphysema was gonna
take him down
so he pulled his own trigger
saved his family that way
though that's a longer tale

Therefore
and whereas
this is a belated requiem
for a man I loved.
My Captain.
Dear and departed
these many years
may he rest in peace
as he never rested
in life.

Bucolic piedmont woodland avenues , where rain clouds touch the hillside after welcome showers have passed
Where pungent fields of green native wild grass connect ones place
with his past
Red-tailed Hawk sentries stand guard o'er Loblolly Pine forest
Contemplative Blue Herons work scenic marshland unnoticed
Land of Pink Dogwood , Cane and blackberry thicket
Of riparian wonders , foggy cattle- worn bottom land , lake dancers that twirl morning side West Point , Lanier and Oconee inlets
To rural lanes colored with the blessings of home* .....

Mind
Is
A
Plastic box.  Anger will make it melt.

The ***** children in the street
have no shoes for their tiny feet
Their mothers cry in nightly pain
hoping for a little rain
Shaving heads to avert the lice
eating handfuls of wild grain rice
Dressed in rags that cover their skin
to ignore these kids is quite the sin
Feed their bellies and give them hope
make them strong and able to cope
Teach compassion and how to give
give them all a reason to live

.

I punched the sun
and burnt my hands,
they blistered ‘fore my eyes

Because I want
just cloudy days
to fill my sorrowed skies

I used to like
the daylight hours
before she went away

Now I just can’t
accept the sun,
I want a cloudy day

And evening
doesn't help at all,
if it is coming near

Because I know
there’ll be a moon
upon the heavens clear

So I’ll keep punching
at the sun
with burns upon my skin

Until I can’t
fight anymore
or clouds return again